


Tooru In Kinkland

by Elleh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Deep Throating, England - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Inspired by Alice in Wonderland, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, blowjob, for just a little bit really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-01-09 17:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleh/pseuds/Elleh
Summary: “Not yet. First, I need you to come with me.”“To come?” Tooru squints. The aftershock is still running through his system, his hands shaken, his legs barely keeping him on place. “To come where?”“To your deepest fantasies.”Tooru has no time to think, when Iwaizumi throws them both inside the rabbit hole.





	1. Dirty Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most self-indulgent thing ever but no regrets. A small series inside my Kinktober 2017, starting with day 2's prompt Dirty Talk and that'll portray several other prompts through the month. Since they follow a chronological order, here we are: a multichap with no pretences of being anything else than porny porn.

Tooru runs from the house party. The cleaned, perfectly sat clothes he’s wearing get dirty and dusty on his way through the garden, but Tooru never stops. He reaches the labyrinth and takes turns and turns, not caring on remembering the way in and, therefor, the way out. He can get lost for all he cares.

It’s not as if there’s something nice and welcoming waiting for him back in that awful house.

It’s boredom, he tells himself when his feet reduce their speed and start walking instead of rushing away. It’s the gloomy sky and the grey clouds and the bitter, sour taste of falseness and shallow smiles what has put on his throat such an unswallowable knot.

Gods, he wishes he could open a magic door and disappear. Throw away his duties and his name, _Oikawa Tooru_ , as if the pedigree of a man half japanese half english meant anything in this world of pale skin and paler souls.

He hates grey. Tooru finally halts, in the middle of green walls falling on him, and puts his hand on his knees. The ups and downs of his chest, uneven and harsh, burn his insides. It’s the oppressive day, he tells himself. Nothing to do with the reminder he’s alone in this hellish place, in this country as foreign as it is home.

If only there were a place Tooru could run away to, but there isn’t. The country house might be on the cost, the sound of waves crashing against the border of the island reaching Tooru even now, but the sea is as good as a fantasy.

Tooru starts walking again, gaze now absorbing every bit of faded light surrounding him. It looks like rain, it feels like a death sentence is about to be unfold before Tooru’s eyes.

He reaches the center of the labyrinth without meaning to. Tooru stares at the big, golden fountain and grimaces. He’d rather be lost than here, in the middle of everything.

The constant sound of water splashing soothes Tooru’s breath, though, as he makes his way around the core of the place. Colors seem to be brighter, here, the appalling size of the clouds far and safe against the enormous fountain.

It takes Tooru a second to understand why.

On the left side, almost hidden, there’s a rabbit hole. It’s big enough for Tooru to cross if he bends his head, and from within a breeze of wet earth and sweet tea flows as if the labyrinth itself were breathing.

Curiosity gets the best of him. It’s the boredom, you see, and the oppression of a house made of stones and centuries. It’s the possibility of an escape path in a world where there’s nothing as such.

Tooru’s about to step on the entrance, when a sudden figure appears at his side. He jumps, feet and heart and a yelp leaving this earth and his body. With eyes wide open, he stares at the new comer, and gasps.

“Who are you, sir?”

Tooru’s _sir_ is an understanding. The man, —if he can be called a _man_ ,— couldn’t be furthest from what a gentleman should be, and yet, Tooru isn’t but politeness incarnated. He bows, softly, and gazes as the man titles his head and studies him.

When a wolfish smile takes over the man’s lips, there’s an awkward stutter on his heart. Tooru’s not ready when the man takes a step closer, smile always in place, green eyes warm and shimmery. Unable to help himself, Tooru finds his lips shaping an uneasy smile in answer, and the man gets so close he’s a single breath away.

“What—”

“It’s you,” he says, voice hoarse. Tooru blinks at him. “What are you doing here? And dressed like this.” Tooru gapes like a fish out of water, wordless, when the man lets his hand wander around Tooru’s chest.

As if he owned it.

Tooru stiffens under his touch, an enraged breath caught in his lungs, and stares. He drinks from him, really, from the way the man titles his head as if he were studying Tooru not like a new discovery, but as if he were a known star in a foreign sky.

There’s a moment of silence in which the man keeps looking at Tooru as if he were trying to figure him out, and then he stepped to the side. Tooru felt air filling his lungs again, his heart going mad in every vein of his body. The presence of this stranger, —damn it, Tooru should be sweating cold fear, but he’s just overwhelmed with excitement,— has sent a rush of something weird and amazing through Tooru’s system.

The man’s nose bury itself on Tooru’s neck when he steps behind Tooru, the only touch between them both. A shudder goes down Tooru’s spine, his skin sensitive and aware of every flick of air touching it.  

“I see,” Tooru shivers when the man inhales deeply, filling himself with every bit of Tooru’s scent. Still facing the rabbit hole, Tooru feels rooted to the ground. The small of the entrance Tooru can see it’s gleaming in colors, just like a diamond would do when reflecting light. It’s mesmerizing, and Tooru uses it as an excuse for his behaviour, when the man’s mouth takes the place of his nose on Tooru’s skin, while Tooru does nothing.

He ignores his discarded cravat, the white already stained by the mug on the ground

“You taste of riches and expensive linen.” Tooru breathes in harshly. His eyes flutter closed when the feeling of a wet mouth becomes a kiss, as soft and inexistent as a brush of a butterfly. “And yet, you smell the same.”

“How—so?”

The man doesn’t answer Tooru’s trembled question, but why would he. With his hands now in Tooru’s hips, he starts a journey around his nape, the soft touch of his lips as enchanting as a full kiss would be. Tooru’s not used to people touching him, and even less with such a gentle, tender caring.

The man’s hands are now covering Tooru’s belly, and he can feel his heart speeding up to dangerous limits. With his mouth so close to Tooru’s artery, the man laughs when the maddening beat of his heart breaks against his skin.

“Are you nervous?” Tooru shakes his head. “Really? Then, what is it?” He’s on Tooru’s ear, now. A soft bite, a soft suck. Tooru has to fold his hands to keep himself from doing something else, something shameful. “Are you _excited_?”

“Yes.”

“What for?”

The answers are infinite, Tooru thinks. The rabbit hole, for a starter. The incomprehensible and yet familiar remarks of the man. The touch of him, as if it were a memory Tooru had forgotten and is now coming back to him bit by bit.

Tooru leans back, just a bit, and he sighs deeply when his back touches the man’s chest. It’s not at all a reassurance, for this could be a pretty amazing hallucination involving all his senses, but Tooru contents himself with the feeling. It’s warm and it surely smells real, and he wants those hands on his body forever, that mouth on his skin forever, that voice engraved on his memory for eternity.

“Ah, Oikawa.” Tooru flinches at the sound of his name. “You were indeed a little scared cat, weren’t you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you,” the whisper is hot and silky and Tooru moans softly when it caresses the sensitive skin of his ear. “You’re trembling. Are you scared?”

“No.”

“Well.” the man rocks his hips forward, and Tooru gasps loudly. “I’d like for you not to, really, but I guess you warned me.”

“Who are you?”

“Me?” A soft chuckle warms Tooru’s neck. A kiss, and then, “I’m Iwaizumi Hajime. You’ll know me. Soon enough.”

“Is that—” Tooru swallows. “Is that a threat?”

“Hell, no.” Tooru startles when a hand presses against his cock as a long lick wets his neck. “It’s a promise.”

“ _Oh_.”

Tooru moans when the hand starts to move, hardening his cock. Tooru can’t believe himself, now blushed in shame and something else, something heavy and soft and that’s burning his insides and filling him. Thoughtless, he lets his head fall to the side, giving the man, —Iwaizumi—, enough space to let his mouth work.

“So needy.”

“So rude,” Tooru groans when Iwaizumi’s hand undoes his pants and folds him above his undergarments. “Oh, _oh_.”

“I love how you smell,” Iwaizumi lets him now, and Tooru arches his back to find his hand. “Shit, look at you. The things I’d do to you. The things I _wanna_ do to you. Do you have any idea?” Tooru whimpers softly when Iwaizumi’s hand finally finds his naked flesh and wets his hand with the dripping tip. “Of course you don’t. _Yet_.”

The promise sends a rush of hot, sweet pleasure down his legs. He’s leaning half of his weight on Iwaizumi now, and if he could he’d give himself completely to the man. The pleasure, the hint of a hidden connection, the intent to forge it anew.

“Do you wanna know the things I will do to you?” Tooru nods, somehow. “First, I’ll suck you off more times than you and I can count, and you will end up _begging_ me to let my mouth ravish you. I’ll use my tongue just like this.” Iwaizumi’s fingers are now on the head of Tooru’s cock, and he dips one of them on its slit. Tooru cries out softly. “And then like this,” he goes down Tooru’s shaft in a slow, tempting stroke. Tooru’s starting to see blurry. “And I’ll grab your ass and push you so deep in my mouth you’ll feel in your cock every one of my breaths.”

Tooru closes his eyes. The image is burned on his mind forever, and he finds himself gaping and gasping for air, his mouth dry, his cock throbbing in Iwaizumi’s grip. He wants to come, and yet, he’s afraid the fantasy will disappear once he does.

“But that’s not the best of all.”

Tooru whimpers.

“No, the best,” Iwaizumi’s strokes are getting maddeningly fast, Tooru’s lungs broken, his hips lurking forward and back in an unsteady pace. “The best will be when you suck _me_.”

Tooru sees it as clear as day. He can almost taste it, feel it in his knees, in his own cock. He wants it, and he wants it so bad he finds enough air to say, “ _How_.”

A rushed laugh, cracked by desire, brushes Tooru’s neck. “I’ll tell you how. I’ll sit on my chair, legs open. I’ll be drinking port, or brandy. And you will be on your knees already, your hard cock against the front of your pants. I won’t let you touch me yet.” Tooru gasps for an oxygen now burning. “And I won’t let you touch yourself either. I’ll hold my cock and stroke it. One time, a second time. Just trying it, you know. Just to see how watered your mouth becomes.”

Tooru is salivating. Maybe it’s the lack of air, the rushed breaths, the cries leaving his mouth louder and louder. Maybe it’s the image, so perfect Tooru can actually see it for himself.

“Do you see me stroking my cock, Tooru?” Tooru nods. “And you want it. You want it so much you’re about to break.”

“ _Yes_.”

“But the best?” He’s about to come. Tooru feels it on his twitching muscles, on how tauten his ass is and his legs and the fact he’s not breathing anymore. His cock is silk in Iwaizumi’s grip, red head dripping with no tomorrow. “The best will be when I grab your hair and pull you down. Hard, like this.” He pulls from Tooru’s hair and Tooru moans. “And you will look at me with those damn eyes covered with those stupidly pretty eyelashes and you will put my cock on your mouth. Will you, Tooru?” Tooru’s beyond words at this point. Iwaizumi has changed his pace to force his orgasm to rest back, but Tooru won’t need much more. He whimpers loudly, and then Iwaizumi says, “Yes, you will. You will put this cock,” Tooru feels it hard against his ass, “in your mouth and you will fucking enjoy it.”

Tooru comes breathlessly. He spills all over Iwaizumi’s hand, drawing a path to the uncovered entrance of that damned rabbit hole, still gleaming in front of them.

He has just enough time to compose himself when Iwaizumi steps in front of him. Tooru can’t take his eyes away from his crotch, tight and shaping what Tooru now knows he wants, he _needs_ , on his mouth.

Iwaizumi chuckles. “Not yet. First, I need you to come with me.”

“To come?” Tooru squints. The aftershock is still running through his system, his hands shaken, his legs barely keeping him on place. “To come where?”

“To your deepest fantasies.”

Tooru has no time to think, when Iwaizumi throws them both inside the rabbit hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ╰(°ㅂ°)╯
> 
> stay tuned for day 8… I'm too excited for this. 
> 
> (if you wanna check my kinktober in exact time, I post each day a fic in [my blog](https://negare-boshi.tumblr.com/post/165927379666/kinktober-2017-ft-iwaoi)).


	2. Deep Throating

The fall is short and eternal.

Hell would probably feel like this, look like this. Clouds of colors and waves of smell hit Tooru on his way down, the image of the entrance getting smaller and smaller until it disappears completely. There’s no despair, when darkness gives way to greens and reds and blues and golds. Tooru, still shaken, finds himself admiring the rivers tainting his skin and has no thought for the imminent end he’ll find soon enough, right at the bottom of this infinite pit.

Tooru should be scared by his lack of will to live, but although the remains of orgasm are still shivering through his system and pounding in his heart with adventurous excitement, he can’t bring himself to care. Tooru has never wanted to die, but the numbness of a life he isn’t allowed to life nor disagree with has quieted any other instinct he might have had.

So Tooru falls, thoughtless, and lets the shine of an impossible world fill his senses. It smells of sweets and candy, it has the color of a circus and the temperature of a beach in September. If Tooru forces himself, he can almost see the ocean and taste the salt in his mouth. Wouldn’t it be great, if at the end of the tunnel he found what he has always yearned for? A simple way out, an horizon without break, a life he could finally call his.

Tooru crashes. It’s fast and sudden and it takes away all the air from his lungs. Choking, Tooru puts his hands on his chest, trying to coax his lungs to expand, his heart to beat, his throat to open. He’s still alive, at least, but his luck be damned, it hurts.

The world shifts around him while Tooru lays on mushy pink moss. It smells intensely odd, and yet, Tooru doesn’t move. The look of the ceiling is appalling, the absence of a way out ought to give Tooru a rush of fear, a thread of panic. But Tooru only sees another wall, only feels the already gone caress of an orgasm he’s not even sure was real.

Where’s Iwaizumi, he wonders, and still doesn’t move. Tooru words it. “Where are you, Iwaizumi?” and like an idiot, he giggles at the sound of his voice, echoing through the room.

Tooru grins and closes his eyes, trying to catch the nice feeling of a warm body, of the ocean’s taste, of the world of promises he’ll probably never see fulfilled. The darkness doesn’t bring Tooru any answer. In fact, when Tooru resigns himself and open his eyes, the world has changed once again.

The ceiling is now a sea of trees, and what was before dark is now colorful and vivid, just like the fall that has brought Tooru here. If Tooru wasn’t sure before he was hallucinating, he is now.

With a sigh, Tooru sits and looks around. A forest of _walls_ surround him, piles of stones and piles of wood and glass that’s so thick it’s barely transparent. The layout is messy and confusing, and Tooru stands with lazy worry. He barely fixes his garments before he starts walking forward, following the serpent path the walls have drawn for him.

The first thing Tooru registers is the smell, that translates into a heavy, overwhelming sweet taste in his mouth. It’s a mix of all the things Tooru likes the most: the melon candies the cook always makes for him in secret, so father won’t punish Tooru; the soft and yet tender taste of roses, the intense and unforgettable taste of books devoured. The world shifts to accommodate Tooru’s most secret truths, and with each step Tooru takes forward, the lighter he feels.

Such a nice setting should have warned Tooru, but there’s so much a hopeless man can do, when everything he yearned for is leaned in front of him like an offer. Tooru walks through the impossible forest made of chairs and tables, of closets and titling candlelights, and such is his fascination he doesn’t realise the forest is closing around him like an enchanted labyrinth until it’s too late.

Tooru crashes with one of the glass walls. Hard. He yelps and steps back, a hand on his throbbing nose. _I must have gotten out of the path_ , he thinks, but Tooru’s a smart man, and he only needs a glance to realise he has followed the path just like the rats followed the Pied Piper.

He’s inside a glass dome, and the more Tooru stares at it, the thicker it grows.

“Great.” Tooru hits it with no intention, and when that only manages to send a shiver through his bones, Tooru leans forward and rests his forehead on it.

It’s cold and wet, as if rain has been pouring down from the other side. Tooru lets out a shaky breath, not ready to let fear take over him. How dumb, how stupid, how reckless. Tooru shakes his head softly, the frozen condensation of the wall wetting his hair, and before he can take a hold of himself, he giggles, desperate.

The bubble of laugh breaks his chains. Tooru’s insides are burning in a terrified fever, that adds to the wave of hysterical laughter Tooru can’t contain anymore.

It echoes through the dome in odd, eerie waves of sounds, that grow more desperate the more Tooru laughs and laughs and laughs.

“I’m gonna die here,” Tooru musters to no one, “in an imaginary place that’s probably a fantasy inside my head. How pathetic.”

Tooru’s giggles become an uncontrolled sob at the sound of his own words. He shakes his head again, trying to throw the tight knot of terror away from his throat. This is not all there is. It can’t be. If Iwaizumi has been a creation of his mind, if Tooru’s brain is strong enough to imagine a man and make himself _come_ with just a fantasy, then he can find a way out of this.

“I’m going to be okay,” he says with a deep breath. “I’m Oikawa Tooru. I will make this right.”

“That’s what I was waiting for.”

Tooru turns around on the spot, the maddening beating of his heart a hammer in each of his veins. He feels dizzy when his eyes dart everywhere, not finding anything that could have spoken. The dome is smaller, though. Tighter. Tooru holds his breath when two doors, one the size of a mouse and one the size of a giant, flash on the glass.

There’s no way Tooru can get through any of those. Not with his current size. Tooru feels a pang of desperation at his own mind’s tricks.

“Oikawa, why are you so scared?” a soft, warm whisper caresses his ear from behind, and Tooru jerks forward. His eyes are wide open when he dares to turn around, just to see the ghostly figure of Iwaizumi disappearing through the glass.

“No, wait, don’t go!”

“I’m not going anywhere.” A pair of strong arms embrace Tooru’s waist, and the smell of ocean and wood fill every cell in Tooru’s body.

Tooru inhales deeply. It’s the first real breath he has taken since he hit the pink moss.

“Are you scared, Oikawa?” Tooru doesn’t dignify the mockery of that question with an answer, and instead he digs his nails in Iwaizumi’s forearms.

“Take me out of here,” he orders in a shaky tone.

Iwaizumi’s chuckle is tender and happy and Tooru leans back to catch it, but Iwaizumi’s already gone.

Tooru spins around, panting. A choking feeling has his lungs crashed against his ribs, the panic of loneliness, of walls of glass falling on him, of a want he’s not ready to completely acknowledge. Tooru’s senses are overflowing with reasons and needs and words he has never allowed himself to pronounce.

“Where—” Tooru swallows repeatedly. “Where are you?”

“Here,” Iwaizumi’s voice echo, and Tooru’s eyes fall again on the two doors, now wooden. Iwaizumi’s standing between them, shirtless, pants loosely hanging on his hips.

Tooru’s mind is a blank space when his eyes follow the line of his muscles, the arc of his grin, his two hands closed in front of his face in unthreatening fists.

“Come, Oikawa. Come to me.”

Like a will-less puppy, Tooru goes. Iwaizumi’s smile is a spell Tooru can’t bring himself to fight against, the white of his sharp teeth, the wrinkles in his eyes when Tooru reaches him pure magic. Iwaizumi feels like a sun down on earth, and Tooru a planet unable to step away from his orbit.

“Aren’t you beautiful when you do as I say.”

“I came because I wanted to,” Tooru replies, breathlessly.

“Of course.” Iwaizumi lets his thumb caress Tooru’s cheek. “Because you want _me_.”

He sounds so sure. Tooru shivers at the tender words, unable to deny them. Even if Iwaizumi’s a fake creation of his needy mind, Tooru knows he wants him. What he represents, what he feels like, what he _means_.

Thoughtlessly, Tooru leans forward, his eyes unable to move away from that wicked smile. He wants it on him, he wants those lips tearing Tooru’s thoughts away, destroying them.

Iwaizumi stops Tooru when they are a second from kissing. With a blink, Tooru tears his gaze from Iwaizumi’s lips and lets it roam until it finds his eyes. There’s teasing and promises and memories Tooru’s not able to read in them, but he craves for every bit of it.

“Not yet,” Iwaizumi whispers. “First, you need to leave this dome.”

“I’m fine staying as long as it stands if you are here with me.”

Iwaizumi’s laugh is a kiss on its own, when it crashes against Tooru’s lips.

“That won’t do. See, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi steps back, arms wide open at his sides, “if you want this to be real, you need to get out of here.”

Those words finally strike Tooru’s hazy mind. “What do you mean, real? This is just a fantasy.”

“For now.” With no more explanation, Iwaizumi opens his fists, and Tooru can finally see the words written in his palms. “Now, you need to choose. Decide what you do, and a door will open for you.”

“There’s nothing I can eat or dri— Oh.” Tooru can feel an unwelcome blush painting his cheeks, Iwaizumi’s chuckle as endearing as it is unnerving. “You mean, I have—” Tooru’s eyes fall on Iwaizumi’s crotch without his order. “You are the—”

Tooru hates his own inability to express his lewd thoughts. A loud, high pitched sound fills his ears, and every mental faculty Tooru has focuses on the sight of Iwaizumi naked chest and the sudden urge those pants should _vanish_. The sooner the better.

“What will it be, Oikawa?” Tooru sighs at Iwaizumi’s hoarse voice. “Will you eat me whole? Or will you just drink?”

“I’ll do both.”

That seems to catch Iwaizumi off guard, for the teasing smile falls from his lips, and a shadow of pleasure covers his eyes. His breath catch, and before Tooru’s bravery dissolves in his burning veins, he steps forward and grabs Iwaizumi’s pants with both hands.

Tooru goes to his knees, and with him he takes Iwaizumi’s pants, undressing him. His legs are taut and tanned and Tooru gasps when, on his way down, he reveals Iwaizumi’s naked flesh, his undergarments nowhere to be seen.

“Oikawa, are you sure?” the teasing is gone now. Iwaizumi looks at Tooru with a grave expression, his gaze so focused on Tooru’s crimson face he could draw holes on him.

Tooru just nods, because words seem a waste of time when he can be using his mouth for a better purpose. Tooru licks his lips, hungry and uncertain. He has never done this, not even once. The image of him going to his knees and devouring a man has always been a present fantasy in his silent nights, but he’s never had the opportunity to make it happen. To want it happen.

“Tooru.”

Oh, lord. There’s adoration on the soft whisper of his given name, and Tooru leans forward as if Iwaizumi’s cock represented the exact taste of that emotion.

For Tooru’s misted mind, it does. If the dream ends and reality comes again, at least Tooru will have this memory: the half hard cock, the intense smell of Iwaizumi, the taste of salt, of ocean, of promises, warm and forever branded on his tongue.

Iwaizumi grunts, and tenderly lets his fingers tangle in Tooru’s hair. In answer, Tooru flickers his tongue around the cockhead and closes his eyes. With his mouth, Tooru tries to absorb the shape of Iwaizumi’s cock, the way its head clashes with his tongue, against his cheeks, with his palate. He feels it throb in him, and Tooru moans softly when his tongue caresses the head with intent, coaxing Iwaizumi’s fingers to close harder on his hair.

“Shit, Oikawa.”

Tooru starts stroking him, clumsily at first. The warmth of Iwaizumi is exhilarating, and as much as Tooru wants the sensation of him on his mouth to be the only thing registering, he can’t help his eyelids when they open.

On his knees, Tooru looks up, mouth shaped around Iwaizumi’s hard cock.

Iwaizumi’s watching him with his lower lip between his teeth, a gleam of unchained pleasure on his gaze, now locked with Tooru’s. A lighting strikes Tooru from head to toes at the sight of Iwaizumi’s want, his own cock already standing in full attention.

Being at the end of that gaze makes Tooru feel like a piece of art being devoured by famish eyes.

Eyes locked, Tooru licks Iwaizumi’s shaft from the hilt to the top. Iwaizumi groans loud and long, and on his way from his balls to the head of his cock, Tooru stops to suck here and there. Tooru has earned absolute power over an absolute man with the simple use of his mouth, and fascinated, he kisses Iwaizumi’s shaft the same way he wants to kiss his gaping mouth.

When Tooru goes back to the cockhead, a shot of hot pleasure hits his own cock, swollen and pulsing. The sudden need of undoing his garments and working on himself while he eats Iwaizumi crosses his mind, but denying his own pleasure is intoxicating. Forcing his mind to pretend the fabric of his pants is Iwaizumi’s teasing hand has Tooru rocking his hips.

Iwaizumi sees him and in answer he rocks his own hips. Tooru wants to touch himself. Wants Iwaizumi to touch him, to eat him.

But no, that won’t do. The deal was eat and drink, and Tooru’s not but a hungry man.

Iwaizumi’s hips are stilled when Tooru bobs his head and swallows him. The head of Iwaizumi’s cock rubs Tooru’s palate, and Iwaizumi groans so loud it shakes the glass walls of the dome.

It’s as if the sounds of pleasure leaving Iwaizumi’s body are strings, and Tooru its instrument. His cock twitches in answer, and before Tooru can send the order to his mouth, he sucks hollowing his cheeks, saliva falling from his open mouth.

“Oh, fuck— Tooru, your damn mouth—”

Tooru hums in agreement or maybe just exalted by the compliment. Encouraged by Iwaizumi’s words, Tooru’s hand strokes faster. He bobs his head, and sucks, and licks, and lets his tongue roam free over Iwaizumi’s cock, his intention of eating Iwaizumi until his brains are a puddle of need clear on his mouth’s work.

Iwaizumi can’t control his hips any longer. He thrusts in Tooru’s mouth with involuntary abandon, and although sudden, the way his cock fucks Tooru’s mouth is obscene and mind blowing. Tooru eats his thrusts with a moan, and Iwaizumi shudders. The desperation Tooru can feel on Iwaizumi’s taut muscles, the grip of his fingers on Tooru’s hair, the sounds leaving his mouth.

The moment has such strength it snaps Tooru’s control free.

Before he understands what’s happening, Tooru’s hands leave Iwaizumi’s shaft and travel to his ass. Tooru digs his fingers in Iwaizumi’s asscheeks to keep him in place and to push him forward.

Tooru gags when Iwaizumi’s cock hits the back of his throat. It’s not pleasant, but the small cry Iwaizumi lets out is enough for Tooru to swallow around his cock, to breathe through his nose, to hollow his cheeks and caress Iwaizumi’s shaft with his tongue. Tooru feels dizzy by the sensations, by the rush of happy control now flowing through his veins. Iwaizumi’s panting and moaning and trembling under Tooru’s fingers, undone and unrestrained.

Desperate to break Iwaizumi, to break himself, Tooru leans back with teasing slowness, and before Iwaizumi can word the words Tooru can see on his eyes, he licks his cock’s head and goes back down. All the way to the hilt.

Iwaizumi moans. Tooru groans, the vibrations of his throat tickling Iwaizumi’s sensitive cock, and using the grip on Tooru’s head, Iwaizumi thrust in him softly, choking Tooru.

Tooru’s cock is so hard he’s scared he’ll come soon. He swallows, and hums, and purrs, and somehow he manages to hold Iwaizumi’s ass in place, keeping him from moving. Tooru’s the one doing all the job this time. He bobs his head, first swallowing half of Iwaizumi’s shaft, sucking the head of his cock. Iwaizumi’s breathing so heavily Tooru can feel his breath in his own lungs, so filled with Iwaizumi they’ll burst if Tooru dares inhale something else.

The gaze Iwaizumi’s watching Tooru with is dazed and clouded. Tooru licks Iwaizumi’s shaft with a languid flicker of his tongue, and Iwaizumi gapes and groans. Tooru smirks. The reflection of him on his knees, his grin filled with Iwaizumi’s cock, so eager, so wanton, is like a painting on Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“You like eating my cock, don’t you, Tooru.”

Instead of answering with words, Tooru takes Iwaizumi’s cock to the hilt again. Iwaizumi tears his gaze away when he lets his head fall back, a long moaned, _yes_ , filling the space of his eyes. Tooru moans around his cock, and working his throat, he teases its head. And working his tongue, he teases his shaft. Tooru’s fucking Iwaizumi’s cock with appetite.  

Iwaizumi’s spasming with no control soon after. Tooru brings one of his hands to Iwaizumi’s tense balls, and he cups them while he takes his cock out of his mouth. Tooru breathes harshly when it bounces against Iwaizumi’s belly, wet by Tooru’s spit, by Iwaizumi’s precum.

“You won’t be able to cross if you don’t— _oh, shit_.”

Tooru puts Iwaizumi’s balls on his mouth, carefully rolling them, licking them, sucking them. His hand is now on Iwaizumi’s shaft, stroking him with twisting movements of his wrist. His other hand, on Iwaizumi’s ass, massages his tender flesh. The song of Iwaizumi’s moans and gasps is the best melody Tooru has had the pleasure to see perform.

“Oikawa, I’m gonna— If you keep doing this, you won’t pass the—”

Of course Tooru knows. With a last lick on his balls, Tooru’s mouth goes back to Iwaizumi’s cock. He licks him, ghostly touches of his tongue on the sensitive skin. Trying to coax Iwaizumi to look back at him, Tooru breathes against his cock until he does. He feels like a fox with his prey on his claws when, smiling, he puts Iwaizumi’s cock on his mouth, the feverish green of his eyes everything Tooru sees.

Iwaizumi whimpers. Tooru sucks him and twists his cock around his mouth with the help of his tongue, letting the image of him eating Iwaizumi fill the man’s memory. This is Tooru’s way of saying, _I could spend my life on my knees devouring you_. This is Tooru learning he loves the way a hard cock feels in his wet mouth, and loves even more to see the man it belongs to ravished by it.

Iwaizumi’s barely breathing, the pleasure a red map of blushes on his chest and his neck and his cheeks. He looks endearing and strong and just a small push from coming. And god, Tooru wants him to come. On his mouth, on his tongue, on him so Tooru’s cells will forever remember how this moment tasted like.

With a single movement of his head, Tooru takes Iwaizumi’s cock all the way to the hilt. Iwaizumi gapes, his fingers harsh on Tooru’s scalp. Tooru’s hand kneads Iwaizumi’s balls while his throat works around his cock, ducking his head so it buries deep in Tooru’s mouth. When he squeezes Iwaizumi’s ass, Iwaizumi jerks forward, choking Tooru, moaning hoarsely.

“Tooru, I’m gonna—”

Tooru groans around his cock, and fastens the bobs of his head, coercing the head of Iwaizumi’s cock to hit deeper and deeper. The only warning Tooru has before Iwaizumi comes in him is the way Iwaizumi’s hand holds him, the tense muscles of his ass like steel on his fingers.

“Fuck, I’m—”

The loud cry is sweet and hot and perfect. Tooru moans and fucks Iwaizumi’s cock, draining him till the last drop, swallowing every bit Iwaizumi gives him. Iwaizumi comes, so hard Tooru’s sure the feeling of his cum hitting his throat has left marks on him.

Tooru leans back slowly, Iwaizumi’s cock sliding out of his mouth, Iwaizumi shivering uncontrollable when Tooru’s lips caress his soft, oversensitive cock. Tooru gives it a last lick when he lets it fall from his mouth, tearing a soft groan from Iwaizumi’s spent body.

There’s a burning feeling on Tooru’s cheeks when his mind starts to focus on himself, now that Iwaizumi’s flesh is no longer within reach. Somehow a breeze of cold air caresses Tooru’s face, and it’s Tooru’s turn to shiver. The wet spots on his chin are tight and dry, and Tooru washes them with a single brush of his hand.

He’s not sure if it’s his own spit or Iwaizumi’s cum. It doesn’t matter. Tooru breathes heavily while he watches up to Iwaizumi, whose chest is moving up and down with exaggerated movements.

His cock rests between his legs, and an unthinkable thread of pride fills Tooru’s stomach at the sight of him, spent to the bones. Tooru has done this. This is his handy work, and he can’t help the satisfied smile that shapes his lips.

“You look pleased,” Iwaizumi remarks with a husky voice. Tooru hums and nods, his eyes drinking from Iwaizumi’s body.

Tooru doesn’t flinch when Iwaizumi squats in front of him, nor when he grabs his chin and lifts his face so they can stare at each other.

“Tooru.” Tooru shivers at the sound of his name, whispered in awe. “You can’t even imagine how it makes me feel, knowing I’ll always be the recipient of such eagerness.”

Those words ring true, but Tooru’s still a proud man, so he says, “How do you know I won’t be sucking every man’s cock I find on my way?”

Iwaizumi’s smile is as arrogant as it is tender. “Because if you manage to leave this place, I’ll make sure you have everything you wished for.”

“And that’s you?” Tooru asks with mockery. The shaken breath he ends the question with is shameful, but Tooru shakes his head, trying to push the blush of his own lies away.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi leans forward and lets his lips brush Tooru’s. A peck of promises. “It’s me. It’s freedom. It’s yourself.” With each word, Iwaizumi caresses Tooru’s mouth, teasing and soft and Tooru’s aware of his hard cock, so needy of attention is painful. “You’ve passed your test, Oikawa. You might cross.”

Tooru’s left on his knees, shaking, unable to process Iwaizumi’s words until the man stands, that wicked smirk in his lips making of Tooru’s stomach a hot mess. Tooru stares at him, and it’s not until Iwaizumi disappears through the wall, leaving him alone again, that he sees the drawn square.

The small and the gigantic doors have disappeared, and in their place, a door the size of Tooru stands, as harmless as it feels charged. The sounds of animals, the rustling of voices, the waves of new smells hit him like a hammer. On his knees, Tooru watches it slowly open, as if Tooru’s widen eyes had commanded it to.

The dome fills with light and warmth when it finally creaks, a passage to another world.

Iwaizumi’s not on the other side, but that doesn’t stop Tooru. He stands, legs numb and shaking, and steps forward. Although his erection presses rushly against his pants, Tooru’s mind is too occupied absorbing the reality of a new world to pay it any attention.

Tooru hesitates when his feet reach the door’s frame. He looks down at the line separating the glass dome and the colorful world in the other side. There’s flickers of light where a thick brick of glass should rise.

It should have brought fear to Tooru’s confused senses, but instead of stepping back and finding a new way out, the taste of Iwaizumi fills his mouth, and the decision takes itself.

The dome crashes at Tooru’s back when he crosses the door, glass breaking and rain falling. The clicking sound grows smaller, and with it, Tooru’s doubts.

Although Tooru can feel his heart beating in every small vein, the constant pump of his body working and alive reassures him like nothing else could ever do. It’s meaningless, if this is just an hallucination. Tooru’s alive, and breathing, and willing, and for the first time in what it feels like ages, Tooru has a real, tangible goal in mind.

He sighs with bewilderment, the image of Iwaizumi, of impossible futures, of doors that should not exist and yet they’d stood right at his back. This is Tooru’s choice.

Iwaizumi is Tooru’s choice.

Tooru will find him, and he’ll make sure Iwaizumi fulfils every one and each of his promise.

Be it here, or in the other side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tooru learning his kinks through a psychedelic fantasy in which iwaizumi is the main star is _my_ kink. 
> 
> this au gives me all the feels, ngl. i hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and be ready for the next kink (which, btw, i'm late for, but promise it will come up soon). we will see where the door iwaizumi's cum has opened will lead tooru to…
> 
> as always, you can find me in [my blog](https://negare-boshi.tumblr.com).


	3. Rimming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been so long, omg. so sorry.
> 
> this chapter feels weird. my style feels weird but it's what felt right so this is what i bring to you.

It tastes different, this side of the world.

It might be Iwaizumi still lingering in his tongue, it might be the soft pink colors of a sky that builds from Earth falling into it. Might be the soft rain, sugar painting Tooru in white and sweet and alive. He shines, when Tooru moves his hands as if reaching for the impossible. As if diamonds made him. As if Tooru is now as much a fantasy as everything else.

There’s a heaviness in his stomach not at all unpleasant. Remains of his arousal still swirling inside of him, crawling his skin, demanding. Tooru’s hand falls on his belly, right where it’s the warmest, and he finds skin instead of cloth.

“You’re naked,” someone says, as if speaking Tooru’s thoughts. Tooru frowns, and raises his gaze.

The world is pink and blue and upside down. Tooru’s stomach falls as if he’d missed the last step of a stair, and the world turns. Now the sky is at his feet, and the Earth falls into him, brown and green and blue. There are two men with matching smiles, so different they could never be thought related, but Tooru thinks, _twins_ , and their clothes change, and their clothes match.

Long, amused grins fill their faces, still different, still clones of each other. Tooru doesn’t understand, but a growl cries below his hand.

“Who are you?”

“You are naked,” one of them repeats, and Tooru finally looks at himself.

The blush is unnecessary, but Tooru has no control over it. Nudity has never been something they practice back at home. Tooru can’t recall the last time he’s shown himself naked in front of another human being.

He thinks, _where are my clothes? I want them back!_ And Tooru is dressed again, after a single blink of his eyes. A weight lifts from his shoulders, and the soft fabric of the cotton caresses his skin.

Tooru shudders. He doesn’t understand, but he’s not sure he wants to.

“Where’s Iwaizumi,” he asks, because that’s the only thing that matters in this insane world of sweet rains and wrong colors and doors that open through sex and promises that brand skin so deep Tooru’s not sure he can find them.

The twins’ grins spread, and the amusement turns into something twisted, something sad. Tooru stares at them with awe, and his heart clenches. If Tooru knew better, he’d think it’s yearning. Longing.

But this is a dream, or a magic world. This is senseless, so he doesn’t think about it much. There’s only one thought echoing in his mind, a name, _Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi_ , and the twins take several steps forward to the rhythm that thought creates.

“You’re not naked anymore,” the one in the left says. Now that they are closer Tooru’s brain can see the difference. They still feel like _twins_ , but Tooru’s eyes can pinpoint the wrong of it. Tooru faces him, tall and broad and dark. His smile is the tenderer, if such a sharp smile could ever be so. “We’ve been waiting a long time for you, Oikawa.”

“I don’t know you.”

“But we know _you_ ,” they say at once.

It rings true. It tastes like Iwaizumi, just a bit different. Tooru wants to touch them, wants to flee. Wants to wake up and never leave this place again. If only Iwaizumi were here, Tooru could stay in this insane world forever.

But Iwaizumi isn’t here. Tooru says, “How so?”

The other one, the light one, has a smile that hugs and smacks and rubs on Tooru’s skin. Known, would be the feeling crossing Tooru from head to toes. The teasing of his expression a painful echo in Tooru’s mind, forcing him to remember.

Tooru doesn’t want to remember, because they don’t exist, same way Iwaizumi hadn’t existed before the maze, before his hand on Tooru’s flesh, before Tooru’s mouth on Iwaizumi’s arousal.

“You smell the same.”

Tooru rolls his eyes. “That’s weird and totally unnecessary. I don’t know what sort of people you are, sirs, but going around smelling people is everything but polite.”

Their smiles feel different, then, almost nostalgic.

They say, “Man, I’ve missed you,” and “I can’t believe you’ve always been such a jerk,” and Tooru frowns and musters, “What is wrong with every men in this place?”

Laughs are something different. They are clean and white and pure, no hidden feelings in them. They wash over Tooru, a simple offering, ever easier than any word Iwaizumi has offered him since the magic fall and the glass dome.

“Who are you?” Tooru repeats, and there’s an underlying now. Fear, and a step back, and the tug of Iwaizumi’s presence, as if he were here but not yet. As if his eyes are glued to Tooru skin, while the rest of him is somewhere far away.

“You will know us,” the dark says with a contained smile.

“Soon, you will be one of us.”

Tooru has no time to let that sink, to let it turn into a threat although it feels as heavy as it is light. Their laughs are loud and caring and filled with mockery, _familiar_ mockery, but Tooru can only grimace and close his fists before they disappear. Ghost in a magic forest.

Because now Tooru is in the middle of a forest, the world still upside down. The sky —the Earth— is so close the impossible tall trees almost touch his feet. He’s surrounded by green and brown and blue, and Tooru starts walking through it.

He thinks, _Iwaizumi, where are you?_

And he says, “Iwaizumi! Iwaizumi!”

Animals come to him, plants turn to him. Iwaizumi doesn’t appear. Tooru walks and walks, the memory of the twins slowly fading away from his mind. Iwaizumi takes every space of his brain, of his lungs, of his cells. The more Tooru walks into the forest, into this world of fog and promises whispered through the wind, the more Tooru’s mind focus.

His stomach is burning hot like the sun by the time he stops, breathing heavily. There’s a blush covering him, he can feel lines of fire through his thighs, in his belly, up his neck. If he had a mirror, Tooru knows what he’d see: his face patched in reds, pupils so dilated there’s no space for the brown of his eyes.

“It’s that bravery of yours,” the wind whispers. Tooru shudders at its sound, the caress in his sensitive skin a kiss, a promise. “That stupid bravery of yours. The way your mind sets a goal. The way you carry yourself towards it.”

The cotton of the shirt rubs against his skin when Tooru bends forward, hands on his knees. He’s full and empty, he’s warm and cold. There’s a need that goes beyond his body, beyond his cock, now throbbing and attentive. Iwaizumi’s presence is everywhere. In the breeze, still whispering secrets; in the fog, drugging Tooru with the sweetest of poisons; in the tops of the trees, now softly dancing around him.

Wood cracks. Tooru moans softly when the wind draws a blanket around him.

He says, “Iwaizumi.”

And Iwaizumi answers, “I’m here. I’m always here.”

Tooru whimpers. He doesn’t want to, but the truth of that sentence, of what lays beyond, forces the sound out of his throat. He has his eyes closed, because his body is one sense from breaking. He remembers the shape of Iwaizumi deep in his mouth, choking the life out of him, sending flares of life in him. He remembers the taste, and the moans, and the way he’d ached knowing he has this power.

“Iwaizumi…”

“What do you want, Tooru?”

So many answers. So complicated.

So simple.

“You,” Tooru says, because right now he can’t think of anything else.

The world shifts, just barely, to accommodate Iwaizumi. As if he were this world, and this world bent over his will.

Tooru remembers his clothes, and his nudity. He tries to grab that thought, but the second his fingers are about to reach it, Iwaizumi appears, and any other thought vanishes as if it’d never been.

“I like your new attire,” Iwaizumi says with a wicked smile. Tooru doesn’t try to answer. “Are you hurting, Tooru? Are you in _pain_?”

Confirming Tooru has gotten hard by the simple act of sucking off Iwaizumi should be shameful. Tooru _feels_ shameful, but he nods, because gods, wouldn’t it be nice if the maddening heat in him disappeared for a bit.

“I could make it go away. Do you want that?”

“Is this another test?”

Iwaizumi’s smile is sharp and smart and proud. Tooru’s stomach shakes.

“Maybe. Does it matter?”

“I just want you.”

“And I’m here.” Iwaizumi’s breath is warm against Tooru’s lips. Tooru would need to move a single centimeter to make their lips meet.

He doesn’t.

“I promise you a kiss,” Iwaizumi says, reading his mind, “once we get out of here. A _real_ kiss. Those that make your toe curl and your eyes roll.”

“Why not now?”

“Because,” Iwaizumi pushes his hands on Tooru’s chest, up, up, up his shoulders and neck. There’s soft, tender care in the way he cups Tooru’s jaw and says, “when I kiss you, _really_ kiss you, it will be a lock. To my promises. To everything that waits for you outside.”

“Okay,” Tooru says breathlessly, because what else could he say. Thoughts are ash in his mind, and need has taken over his decisions.

“That easy?”

“I want a kiss,” Tooru says as if that explained everything. Iwaizumi chuckles, because he’s a bastard and likes to make fun of Tooru, but Tooru doesn’t has it in himself to retort at him.

“Okay, then. Get naked.”

Tooru blinks. And blinks. And says, “What?”

“Take your clothes off. At least your pants.”

“You want to kiss me with my pants off,” Tooru says, trying to understand.

“Tooru,” the name sends shudders down Tooru’s back. “I’m not kissing your mouth.”

“Oh.”

Tooru gets rid of the pants, but not the shirt. They are now simple, commoner. Tooru hasn’t re-dressed himself with his fancy garments, somehow his mind already feeling the needed simplicity for this moment. He undoes them, a single pull of his fingers, a twist, a wiggle of his hips, and Tooru’s underbody is completely exposed to Iwaizumi’s hungry gaze.

And he’s hungry. There’s dark fire in his eyes when they fall on Tooru’s cock, hard and leaking and twitching. It’s caught on the lower of his shirt, the wet tip a darker spot on the fabric. Tooru can’t take his eyes away from Iwaizumi, and the way his tongue licks his lips.

“Turn.” Tooru startles at the low rumble that’s his voice and slowly follows the order. Iwaizumi’s rough hand is pressed on his lower back a second later, the callousses of his fingers sending threads of pleasure through Tooru’s body. “Go to your knees and hands.”

“Iwaizumi…”

“Do it.”

Tooru moans softly and goes to his knees and hands. The fog is thicker now, only four trees visible around them. A single thought is sent to whomever could be seeing them, seeing _him_ , exposed and compelling, but it vanishes as soon as Iwaizumi kneels before him.

“You will grow shy over this,” Iwaizumi says, a growl of desire and amusement. “The more I do it to you. I never remembered the first time, you know? It felt like this fog… But now. Now, here I am, and I have you. Bent over. Spread,” Iwaizumi’s hands take Tooru’s asscheeks and opens him. Fresh air covers him, and Tooru’s eyes are wide and amazed and a bit scared. He wants this, but he doesn’t. Letting Iwaizumi be this close, doing _this_ of all things… “I want to devour you.”

“Oh, gods.”

Tooru’s skin tickles when the world shifts. A tree reaches behind him, and a sound breaks from it. Tooru tenses, his back muscles of fear and uncertainty. Iwaizumi must see him, for one of his hands leave his ass and brushes up his back.

“Do you trust me?” Iwaizumi asks against Tooru’s lower back. Tooru shivers. “Do you, Tooru?”

Foolish of him, Tooru says, “Yes,” trembling and wanting and sure this is a mistake, this is the best thing he could have ever done. Iwaizumi chuckles again, and his hand goes back to its place in Tooru’s ass.

“It’s gonna be cold for a second,” Iwaizumi warns, and a wet sound fills the silence, and the broken seconds between Tooru’s breaths. “It’s gonna be better with this?”

“What…?”

But Tooru’s question breaks into a loud moan when two cold, wet fingers press right into his hole. Iwaizumi spreads whatever he’s poured into his hand, softly teasing the rim of nerves, pushing with the tip of his finger.

“Tooru?”

“Oh, _oh_.” Tooru’s not sure if he can breathe.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

The world breaks. Or maybe it’s just Tooru that breaks. He feels Iwaizumi’s breath first, warm and teasing, the smile imprinted in it. Tooru’s eyes are glued to the floor, the pink and white floor, ethereal and impossible. Iwaizumi’s finger swirls, almost a ghost touch. Tooru inhales.

And then Iwaizumi’s mouth is there. Warm and wet and wide. He sucks, first, and Tooru lets out such an animal sound he scares himself for a second. Iwaizumi does it again, and then his tongue finds him. It circles, spreading the now warm wetness. It goes around Tooru’s hole, from big to small, and when the tip presses and enters him, just slightly, Tooru closes his eyes and sees stars.

He rocks his hips because he can’t do nothing else. His mouth is open and soundless, until Iwaizumi sucks and then pushes his tongue in even farther. The sound Tooru makes then is indescriptible, raw and hungry and mad. He can’t quiet himself after that, he can’t even think.

Iwaizumi licks, and sucks, and presses in, and Tooru opens and opens and opens and lets him enter, every time a bit more. Tooru wants to say things. He wants to tell him, _more, more, more, I want more, I want all of it_. He wants to yell, _I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, Iwaizumi, I can’t_.

But only incoherent sounds leave him. And meanwhile Iwaizumi starts making his own. He moans against Tooru’s entrance, and the vibration fills him. He bites on Tooru’s tender fless, marking his ass, and a growl crawls from him. His mouth eats every part of him. He falls from Tooru’s hole and into his balls, and then to the space between both, and Tooru’s not sure if reality is this or that or the fog or just his ass connected to Iwaizumi’s mouth.

The finger snaps Tooru in half, though. The pressure of Iwaizumi inside, of his tongue around, of his other hand reaching forward and fisting Tooru’s cock. The way the fog covers Tooru’s sweated body, same smell as Iwaizumi, same feeling, same presence. Tooru’s surrounded by him, he’s filled by him, every breath, every thought. His body sings, _Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi_ , and his cock throbs, _fuck me more, fuck me harder, fuck me all_.

Iwaizumi sucks Tooru’s ass and pulls from him, and Tooru arches his back and howls to the sky that’s upside down, and the trees send him back the sound of his pleasure. His cock is covered by Iwaizumi’s palm, and then it’s stroked and stroked, Iwaizumi’s fist swirling as his tongue swirls his entrance. He makes of it a perfectly mirrored action, his hand fucking Tooru’s cock while his mouth fucks Tooru’s ass.

Tooru comes in a silent cry that becomes soundful right at the end, when his lungs can finally function again. Spasms roll up his back, down his ass, on his stomach. His cock spurts against the floor and in Iwaizumi’s hand, and he cries again when Iwaizumi doesn’t take his mouth away from his sensitive ass, still stroking the last of his orgasm.

His shoulders fall over, Tooru’s cheek against the sky that’s the floor. He’s breathing heavily, a whine caught at his throat, long and weak and needy. Tooru’s ass clenches around nothing, and he knows he wants something else, although still not sure of what exactly.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi pants against his thigh, “please, never grow shy of this.”

“Too late,” Tooru musters, red creeping up his face.

“Oh, dammmit.”

Tooru laughs at that, choked and shaky. The arch of his back hurts, and his knees hurt, and he wants to snuggle around Iwaizumi and find out if he’d be as shy of doing this as he is now from receiving it.

“Did I—pass the test?”

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi says, low and confused. Tooru finally manages enough strength to let his body fall into the ground. Iwaizumi’s frowning, his lips red and swollen. A pang of pride fills Tooru at the sight of it.

“What does that mean?”

“Tooru,” but there’s something new in his eyes when he looks at Tooru now, something wide and desperate. “I don’t know what’s— Oh, shit,” he says down at his hands, now vanishing.

A rising panic fills Tooru’s throat. He wants to sit, but the orgasm’s aftershock makes him slow. His fingers close in nothing when he reaches for Iwaizumi’s forearm.

“I didn’t pass. I didn’t— what’s happening?”

“Tooru, listen to me. I’m your way out, do you hear me?” Iwaizumi grabs Tooru with his remaining hand, hard enough to bruise the tender skin of his cheek and jaw. Tooru nods at him. “Whatever happens, you must find me. You have to bring us together.”

“What does that mean?”

But Iwaizumi’s gone already, the clear fear in his eyes branded in the fog, now silent. The trees don’t move, nor does the broken world around him. The only thing alive is Tooru’s heart, beating furiously and out of rhythm. He stares around, his skin already dry, already cold, already forgotten.

The forest is silent around him.

Tooru brings his knees up and hugs them, and hides his face in the hollow they create.

He’s not sure if anyone hears the desperate sounds he makes then.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vive la angst because what's porn without angst, really.
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](https://negare-boshi.tumblr.com/)


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